


I Think I Lost My Halo (Stucky)

by majesticdragonair



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: The First Avenger, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Character Study, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, M/M, The Avengers (2012) - Freeform, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-22 19:38:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15589248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticdragonair/pseuds/majesticdragonair
Summary: On July fourth, 1918, Steven Grant Rogers was born. And since that day, he's never gotten a break





	I Think I Lost My Halo (Stucky)

**Author's Note:**

> this is more of a character study for steve than it is a stucky fanfiction, but steve's relationship with bucky is a very large part of the story so i thought i'd title it as much. the writing flowed easy for me, which isn't a thing that happens a lot. except i had a lot of trouble for the avengers slot, so i'm sorry if that doesn't feel as good as the rest.
> 
> inspired by [this](https://youtu.be/FOCJMIi5KRY)
> 
> title from polarize by twenty one pilots

**Captain America: The First Avenger**

A lot of Steve’s childhood was spent in his bed, with his mother resting wet cloths to his forehead and forcing terrible medicine they couldn’t afford down his throat. it was about constantly having to sit down because his back was too sore, or about him cupping his ears and telling people to speak up for him, ignoring the dirty looks whenever he had to cough for longer than everyone else.

Then Bucky Barnes walked into his life when they were still in the signal digits of their age, and then it was about running away from kids who couldn’t take harmless jokes or facing bullies and kids who just didn’t know how to be nice to everyone else. It was about staying up until the sun rose, giggling away quietly in their bedrooms as they drew. Steve always would try to teach Bucky, but he was never going to get good like Steve was. Bucky didn’t mind though; always said how the arts was Steve’s thing, and Bucky’s was fixing things.

“You’re going to get fixed,” Bucky slurred one morning, when Bucky had stayed up all night with Steve to make sure he lived through the winter night. Sarah had been heard kicking around in the rest of the apartment before she left for work, even if she was getting more frail by the day. Bucky grinned at Steve tiredly, who’s eyes were as red as his cheeks. “One day you won’t be sick, and I can take you out to see the snow during winter. Properly, I swear it Stevie.”

He passed out after that.

 

“I’m a fairy.”

Steve just blinked at him slowly, watching as Bucky shifted awkwardly on the bed. Their voices were hushed because Sarah had a shift starting at dawn, but Bucky had been tense since Steve saw him at school. Steve had gotten irritated and forced it out of him.

“Oh.”

Bucky looked up at him sharply, no longer focused in tracing patterns on Steve’s blanket, the one that was too hot to lie under for the night. “’Oh’? Is that all?”

Steve just shrugged. “What did you think I would say, Buck?”

Bucky paused his hand movement, tense face relaxing into something more sombre, a look Steve had never seen on him before. “…I don’t know. I really don’t.”

Steve shifted forward, until their crossed legs were pressed together, Steve bony knees poking into Bucky’s own and maybe making him uncomfortable, but neither of them cared. Bucky just released a breath when Steve locked his arms around Bucky’s neck, bringing him into an all familiar hug. Steve’s voice was heavy against Bucky’s ear as he spoke, “I’m a fairy too.”

Bucky choked out a sob and hugged Steve back tightly.

 

It was easy, to just lay in bed with Bucky on any given day and just lie in his arms, surround himself in the warmth that was his boyfriend, envelop himself in their kisses. They were constantly being careful, but with Sarah’s constant work it was easy to find Steve’s home to themselves. They’d been sitting on the couch, resting quietly and snuggled up to each other when the front door opened without them hearing, and they heard it shut with a coat falling loudly to the ground.

Sarah Rogers stared back at them as the panic clearly set itself onto Bucky’s face, and Steve went paler then he usually was. They seemed to debate silently whether to pull away before the both decided to shove each other away at seemingly the same time, not looking at each other or the woman in the room.

But she was instantly moving over in front of their space, tugging them together so she could hug them both, a mumble of “oh boys” muffled into their shoulders as she held them to her. She spent ten minutes holding Steve’s face in her hands and quietly telling him how he was still her son, and hugged Bucky for a long time, telling him how she loved him.

 

Barely a year later Sarah’s body was in the ground and Bucky and Steve were forging up for an apartment of their own.

 

“Steve?”

Steve choked on the breath of air that he breathed in, suddenly feeling his blood pumping through his body because Bucky was alive, looking at him with those pretty blue eyes. He found himself grabbing Bucky forward and pressing their lips together, the emotions crackling like lightning between them as Bucky kissed him back.

When they pulled back, Steve knew his eyes were wet, and that his lips were swollen, but he ignored it in favour of staring at Bucky’s beautiful face. “Yeah Buck, it’s me.”

“I thought…. You were smaller.”

Steve snorted. “And I thought you were dead. C’mon baby, let’s get you out of here.”

 

“You know,” Steve said quietly, drawing small patterns in the first layer of snow for that evening. Steve and Bucky were the only ones awake, wanting to stay awake for the first snow of the season. The rest of the Howlies said they’d join them, but they’d passed out in the abandoned farm house hours ago. “When you said you’d take me to the snow, I didn’t think this is what you meant.”

Bucky snorted out a laugh, gently elbowing Steve’s side, who breathed out a puff of laughter, watching it come out as fog before disappearing into the air in front of him. “Maybe not, doll, but I hope you like it all the same.”

Steve didn’t answer at first, letting his hand drift over so he could hold Bucky’s, intertwining their fingers, squeezing for warmth. Bucky always got twitchy around the affection, always whispering about how they could get caught, but they both knew that their crew wouldn’t dob them in if they were found out. Instead of tensing up, Bucky breathed out deeply and thumped against Steve’s side, muscular body; ‘surprisingly soft’, from what Bucky had said months ago.

“I do,” Steve whispered, but Bucky was already snoring quietly.

 

“You like her,” Bucky said softly, no tone of malice apparent in his voice. Steve just continued writing out the paperwork, his shoulders and back muscles tense and showing through the thin shirt he was wearing. They were back in England for exactly a week before the Howling Commandos would be shipped out again, and Steve had been swamped with paper work since they’d landed.

“Stevie,” Bucky spoke just as softly, and it scared Steve, because Bucky had every right to be mad at him. But Bucky only stood up and walked over to Steve, kneeling down next to his seat like he’d done when they were younger. Steve swallowed, endeared by the action, even if Steve towered over Bucky like this now.

Steve looked at him and felt himself untense as those pretty blue eyes said what Bucky couldn’t. How he didn’t want to lose Steve, but he knew he had to if they wanted to keep themselves alive, because-

“I love you, Steve. But you know it’s not like that for people like us,” Bucky said, and maybe Steve imagined the way his voice shook, like Bucky was sick of hiding it like he was.

Steve nodded gently. “I do. Like her, I mean. But she’s nothing compared to you, Buck. You’re my best guy.”

Bucky smiled, standing up. He chuckled briefly, leaning over to kiss Steve’s hair and hug his head to his upper torso. “I know, punk. I know.”

 

“Love you, Stevie.”

Steve looked over, having to use his gloved hand to protect his face from the snow. He smiled at Bucky. “I love you too, Buck.”

 

“Steve?”

He didn’t flinch, the bottle swinging in his hand gently as Steve watched her sit down in front of him. He wouldn’t look up, causing Peggy to lean down and look at him. She reminded him of his mother in that moment, when Steve was too sick to look up properly.

“I’m so sorry.”

He just shrugged, taking another sip of the alcohol before chucking the empty glass to the side. Peggy flinched when the glass smashed. “The worst part,” Steve said slowly, voice not sounding drunk at all, like a normal person would sound after a bottle of wine. It sounded levelled and dull, prepared; focused. “Of the serum is that I can’t even get drunk. The one time I want to get so drunk that I won’t remember anything? I fucking _can’t_.”

Peggy reached out slowly, as if not to scare him, and rested her hand on his arm. He didn’t flinch, looked at her carefully instead. He took a deep breath. “Sorry, Peggy, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You’re upset,” She said softly, rubbing his arm soothingly.

“That’s no excuse to scare you like that.”

She didn’t answer.

 

Steve wasn’t thinking about Peggy when he crashed the plane, when he felt icy cold water submerge his body and chill he bones. He’d been haunted by Bucky’s terrified face, his screams the echoed around the alps, stuck in Steve’s head even after they faded away into the air. He thought about how he’d finally be able to sleep, after three days of pacing restlessly and ignoring the tears in his eyes and pain in his heart.

Then he woke up, and it was 2011, and Bucky wasn’t there. And that dull ache in his heart returned.

 

**The Avengers**

Steve had only spent a limited time in the new century before he was being called out, asked to assist in taking down some aliens. He was only stunned for a few seconds before the scene back in ‘42 hit his mind and compared to watching someone rip their own face off? This was nothing.

He knew he was fighting reckless, that he wasn’t being as careful as the rest of this so-called team. But he found himself not caring, until the archer grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the way of a crumbling building.

Clint was glaring at him. “Look, I get it that you got some problems, but so do the rest of us. So fucking _man up_ and do your job so people don’t get killed.”

He found himself apologising later to Clint, who looked tiredly from over his sushi roll and shrugging, saying it was fine.

 

“I have a question.”

Steve slowly looked up at Natasha, not closing the book that rested in his lap, only silently prompting her to continue. She stared for a few seconds before crossing his arms. “What’s your reason for staying here?”

Steve smiled, looking back down at his book. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

 

“He’d want to me continue.”

Natasha didn’t ask, just looking at him blankly before climbing the plane. Steve followed after a few seconds, prepared for DC.

 

**Captain America: The Winter Soldier**

The way the Winter Soldier fought reminded Steve of a lot of things. The main one was Natasha, because both of them moved quietly, as if they were apart of the air around them. They both fought swiftly and they both knew exactly what they were doing, every move purposeful. At the same time, they were different, because Natasha was smoother with her frame while the Winter Soldier was more clunky, but he made up in his fighting skills, bruising Steve’s body more than anybody else had managed.

After the serum, of course.

  
Steve refused to think about it. Until he was forced to, which was now, as he stared over the bridge.

“He’s gonna be there, you know.”

Steve liked to think that maybe in another life, him and Sam could’ve had something. There was that spark there, one that found Steve joking with the other man easily, one that craved for his dark hand on his shoulder or around his waist, maybe holding his hand. But then he’d gone and ripped the Winter Soldier’s mask off, revealed those gruff lips and sharp jawline that he knew anywhere. He spent hours studying Bucky’s face – he’d be ashamed in himself if he didn’t recognise him.

He thinks Sam understands, because he was looking at him with soft eyes and a slight smile. Steve only looked back with what he hoped was a blank look, but from what he’d heard, he wasn’t good at those.

“I know.”

“Look, whoever he used to be, the guy he is now, I don't think he's the kind you save. He's the kind you stop.”

Steve made sure to look away from Sam then, not wanting to see the regret and sympathy in Sam’s eyes like he’d seen in everyone else’s. When his mum died. When they found out Bucky fell from the train. When he woke up from the ice.

He couldn’t let Bucky go, not just yet. Steve briefly tells himself that he could never let Bucky go, not after everything they’d gone through. Not now.

“I don't know if I can do that.”

 

“Are you going to tell me?”

Steve just shrugged, pen dancing across the page as he found himself tracing lines. He was mindlessly doodling, but he already knew what his mind would be sketching. He couldn’t stop himself from it.

“You might have to be more specific about that.”

Natasha leaned back, hair flipping as she scoffed. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“You also know the answer though,” he fired back, pen outlining his nose, distantly remembering the kisses he’d placed there on cold nights and sleepless afternoons. Natasha glared at him from behind her bangs, the ones that were curled and resting high on her head, framing her face. He’d always found her beautiful, with her pale skin and red hair, green eyes that shone deadly when you so much as looked at her wrong.

She slowly crossed her arms. “I want to hear it from you. Not from my own observations, not from what other people tell me. I want it from Steve Rogers.”

His drawing instantly stopped, where he was refining the bouncy curls that sat atop Bucky’s hair, short like he remembered and nothing like the Bucky he knew now. He didn’t know where to begin, because there was so many things to say, so many stories to tell. And he wanted to tell Natasha everything, spill out every dark secret and lonely nights they shared together.

“I love him,” Steve said instead, as if that summarised everything. “And he loved me. And then the war happened, and…”

He found himself choking up, and he closed his eyes and tried to breath evenly. He imagined that the hand on his own was Bucky’s, that the thumb rubbing over his knuckles was his boyfriends. Natasha’s hands were too small; too soft, not rough like Bucky’s were. But it worked, because when he opened his eyes again, he was surprised for all of a second.

She smiled at him gently.

 

**Avengers: Age of Ultron**

“Steve.”

He was staring up at the roof, and he realised Sam was sitting next to him, the uncomfortable hotel bed sunken down to support his weight. Steve sat up quickly, making sure not to jostle Sam as he gently grabbed his arms.

“I’m here, Steve.”

The blonde nodded slowly, eyes closing as he practiced his breathing, listening to Sam’s heartbeat through the skin that was touching, slowly calming down and matching the beat. Sam’s heart had always paced faster than his own, but he found himself forgetting that as he slowly opened his eyes and looked at Sam.

Sympathy.

Steve wanted to vomit.

 

Steve thinks briefly that this is what he needed – the Avengers back again, nights spent awake in the common room, laughing loudly and watching bad movies. Watch Tony invent or fighting with Clint, listening to the endless amount of stories Thor seemed to know, reading quietly with Bruce and discussing excitedly at the end.

“You wanna talk about what happened in DC?”

Steve froze, because it’d been a few months now, and surely his friends knew what happened. But he instead shrugged silently, not sharing any of his thoughts out loud as he continued eating his omelette.

Clint looked up from is coffee from the non-verbal answer, and the entire table was silent now, just staring at Steve and waiting for him to answer. Natasha seemed to take pity on him, because she stood up and took her plate with her to the sink, thumping Clint’s head as she walked past.

“Ow! Hey, what was that for?!”

“Don’t be so nosey.”

“No no, I wanna hear what happened,” Tony mentioned, leaning on the counter now with his third cup of coffee in the hour. He looked at everyone over the rim of the ceramic cup. “Fury wouldn’t tell us anything, and all the files Natasha dropped weren’t in English.”

Natasha scoffed. “Like you’d let that stop you.”

Tony grinned, shrugging. he moved the attention back to Steve, who’d silently finished his large breakfast and was cleaning up his two plates. He wasn’t looking at the team, but he could feel their eyes on him, so he sighed shakily. “What if I don’t want to talk?”

“We’d respect that,” Thor said. His voice had always boomed over the others, but there was something calming to the deep tone. “But in our defence, friend Steve, you don’t talk to anybody about your problems. We are your friends, and we want you to be okay.”

Steve really hated when they were right. “I’m bad at it. Talking.”

“We’re patient,” Bruce spoke up, quiet compared to the others, but definitely no less important than the rest of the team. Steve turned around then, a glass of water shaking slightly in his quaking grip as he made his way back to the seat at the island. He placed the glass down and didn’t sit down, leaning over and resting his head on his outstretched arms.

He felt Natasha’s hand press onto his shoulder blade, and he let out a shaky breath. “I just want him to come home,” He said quietly, realising how much of a relief it was to say those words. “I know that it must be difficult for him, but I thought he was dead, and I just want to hold him and tell him that I’m here for him.”

“Is this… Barnes?” Tony asked, clearly hesitant. Steve nodded, still not looking up. He instead continued talking, skin muffling his words but loud voice making it still easy to understand. “When he fell from the train I just, stopped? It felt like I had nothing else to live for, and I guess you could say it’s why I crashed the plane. I knew I was saving so many lives by doing it but…”

“It was easier to do?”

Steve nodded, looking up and resting his chin on his now lifted palm, looking away from the others and at Natasha instead. She was smiling slightly, and he sighed. “I only had to say this once but. Well, I’m gay. And I loved Bucky. And I still love him, and I miss him so much. Fuck.”

He didn’t move when nobody said anything and snorted out a teary laugh when Clint said in a deadpan voice, “Captain America likes dick.”

“Yeah, but so does Steve Rogers,” he answered back, in which Clint grinned at him.

“Thank you for telling us,” Bruce said, and he was smiling too, even as he avoided Steve’s gaze. He always had problems with looking at people, but Steve didn’t mind, feeling more at ease from the lack of attention.

Thor nodded along to Bruce’s words. “Yes, I can’t imagine that’s easy for you to say. We trust you as much as you trust us, my friend, I promise.”

Tony spoke next, beginning with a sigh and ending with his mug hitting the island, clinking loudly in the echoing room. “I mean, it’d be hypocritical of me to say you can’t be gay, because I’m pan,” he said casually, and the team nodded along as if it was common knowledge, even if Steve didn’t know it until that moment. “But it’s not going to be easy, Cap.”

Steve grinned, shaking his head. “It’s never been easy for me, Tony. I’m sure I can handle it.”

 

Steve didn’t plan on coming out to the world, but he didn’t think he had to.

 

When Wanda joined the Avengers, it was clear that she trusted Steve the most. She never tensed up when addressed by the Captain, and she followed his orders with no hesitation. She ate anything he gave her and spoke to him the most.

She also came to his room some nights, tears running down her cheeks and her hands shaking, her brother’s name being the only word she could force out when he asked what was wrong. Steve had tried to get her to see one of the tower’s psychologists, but he couldn’t do anything when she bit out a defiant ‘no’, because he said the same when they asked him. Instead he hugged her softly and whispered words to her.

“A long time ago, I lost someone dear to me,” Steve said one night, the two of them sitting one of Steve’s large windowsills, looking out to the sky. It was a clear night, and the city was lit up below them, providing a beautiful view. Wanda had said it wasn’t as beautiful as the country towns and bare roads in Russia, and Steve promised he’d go somewhere to see if she was right.

Wanda looked at him and silently asked him to continue.

“He was almost like a brother to me, but he was so much more-“

“You loved him,” Wanda cut off, grinning with her eyebrows raised suggestively. Steve huffed.

“Yes, fine, I did.”

She reached out her hand, wisps of red sparking from her finger tips. “Can I… see? Through your memories, but only if you want.”

Steve nodded slowly, gently holding Wanda’s hand. He felt his entire being shake as the pictures flew past his mind, of all the times he looked at Bucky and felt his heart swoon, and all the times he was held by Buck and the times he held him. he didn’t realise when Wanda’s face broke into his eyes, his cheeks wet and the sun beginning to rise around them, glowing into the room.

It felt like no time had passed; it felt like the 1930s, and that scared him.

Wanda gently wiped away his tears, making sure her manicured fingers didn’t poke him. “You were beautiful.”

 

**Captain America: Civil War**

“Buck.”

He felt like he was drowning, like he’d crashed the plane into the icy depths of the Antarctic again, his lungs feeling both on fire and frozen at the same time. His skin prickled under the uniform, hairs standing up as Bucky refused to look at him.

“Bucky. Please.”

Bucky’s shoulders rose, but he turned around, not looking at Steve as his hair made a curtain around his face, hiding his eyes that were more grey than blue and lips that were more frown than smile. Steve didn’t care, because he’d been looking for two years and now here he is, in the flesh.

“Do you know who I am?”

“You’re Steve,” he hesitated. “I read about you in a museum.”

Steve nodded slowly, placing the book down and taking a step forward. He ignored Sam’s voice talking to him, the words going through his head but not processing as he focused on Bucky, who looked ready to bolt. “I know you're nervous. And you have plenty of reason to be. But you're lying.”

“I wasn’t in Vienna. I don’t do that anymore.”

Steve smiled gently, walking closer. Bucky relaxed when he did, looking at Steve properly now. “I believe you, Bucky. But the people who think you did are here, and they’re not planning on taking you alive.”

“I know.”

 

“Buck, stop! You’re going to kill someone!”

The glare sent his way sent Steve’s body into frozen shock, regretting the words when Bucky pulled his bag up. Bucky kept looking at Steve with icy eyes when he said, “I’m not killing anyone.”

 

Having to watch Bucky sit in the cell, strapped and contained was horrible for Steve, having to see how defeated Bucky appeared to be. And the horrible feeling in his gut seemed to sky rocket when the power suddenly went out, because he’d rather watch Bucky be miserable than not at all.

He really did like Sharon, but his gratitude to her was in the back of his mind because this wasn’t Bucky Barnes. This was the Winter Soldier, HYDRAs creation, and it showed what the seventy years that Bucky was contained for did to him.

Steve wasn’t scared of Bucky, and he wasn’t scared of the Winter Soldier. Not when he looked at him with blank eyes, not when the helicopter nearly tore him to pieces, but he found himself relaxing when Bucky leaned against him, both of them dripping with water but breathing and alive.

 

“Cap.”

Steve was on alert, but he didn’t have to feel his walls fall to know they did, because the broken look Bucky was sending him tore Steve to pieces. He swallowed and kept himself together, walking over and crouching in front of Bucky.

“You’re Steve.”

Steve hummed. “Which Bucky am I talking to?”

Steve regretted the words as soon as they’d passed his lips, seeing how Bucky’s face hardened and he turned away. He didn’t try to get out of the vice clamping his arm, nor did he try to attack Steve and Sam with his free hand and legs, easy reach to kick Steve away.

“Your mum’s name was Sarah. You wore newspapers in your shoes.”

His words were quiet, but all at once Steve felt his stomach drop and his heart beat faster, because Bucky remembered those things. He smiled and nodded, even though Bucky wasn’t looking at him. Because he was different, but they both were, yet this was the same Bucky Steve had fallen in love with.

“Yeah, I did.”

 

“Not sure you understand the concept of a getaway car.”

Steve just shrugged, looking back at the car briefly, having to swallow before he tore his eyes away from Bucky. “It's low profile.”

Sharon raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t mention it, turning to her own car before popping the back of it open, revealing Steve and Sam’s uniforms, wings and shield sitting there. She moved away so he could see it, gesturing to it when she spoke. “Good, because this stuff tends to draw a crowd.”

An awkward silence fitted between them. “He kinda tried to kill me, ya know.”

Steve nodded slowly, not having to ask who ‘he’ was. “I’m really sorry, Sharon.”

She stared at him for a few seconds longer, before a warm yet bittersweet smile spread on her lips, and she shook her head. “You’d do anything and everything for him, wouldn’t you?”

Steve didn’t have to think about it before he blurted out “I would,” only a second later realising that she’d sussed him out. Her grin turned mischievous as she leaned forward, having to stand on her toes to press the featherlight kiss to his jaw. Steve froze in place, his face growing red as she leaned back to smile at him, holding his jacket gently.

“I liked you Steve, but you better chase that man, because you two are seventy years out of practice.”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “I will, Sharon. Thank you.”

He then turned around and left, smile still on his lips as he got into the car, not noticing the tension between Sam and Bucky as they drove off.

 

Bucky’s hand was cold as it gripped Steve’s fingers interlocked, Bucky’s thumb playing an invisible pattern on his skin. It was easy, the contact between them, even after so long spent apart.

“What’s going to happen to your friends?”

Bucky’s voice was soft, as it’d been the entire time they’d been together again, so much different to the Bucky Steve used to know. That Bucky was loud and always laughing, always showing how happy he was and never afraid to speak his mind. This Bucky was more closed off and quiet, expressions hard to read, and easy to shut down.

Steve squeezed his hand when the thumb stopped the beat, resting there now. “Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it.”

“I don’t think I’m worth all of this.”

Steve instantly broke all contact with Bucky, leaning forward to flick a few switches, and then the jet was on auto pilot and he could stand and move to Bucky, who avoided his gaze. He leaned down so he was sitting on the quinjet’s floor in front of him, and he hesitantly rested his hands on Bucky’s, feeling him freeze. “You know that wasn’t you, Buck. They brain washed you and forced you to not have a choice.”

Bucky looked at him slowly, relaxing all the same under his touch. “Yeah. But I still did it.”

Steve kept himself levelled, even though he wanted desperately to prove Bucky he was wrong. “You’re not a bad person,” he said instead, fingers tightening when Bucky just shrugged, obviously not believing him. “No. Look at me, Bucky.”

He did, eyes showing how unimpressed he was with Steve. Steve’s fingers tightening in his pants and he found himself leaning up, easily slotting himself in between Bucky’s parting legs and suddenly locking their lips together, a sob instantly passing his lips because he’s waited so long for this moment. He’d spent days upon nights thinking about Bucky, wishing to have him by his side in any way, and here he was, in his arms.

He could die happy, he briefly thought.

Steve’s hands flew to Bucky’s hips, and he moaned when Bucky gripped his shoulders just has harshly, trying to push him closer.

They’d parted after what could’ve been minutes or hours, foreheads resting together as they caught their gentle breaths back, still locked together tightly. Bucky’s knees were pressed to the sides of Steve’s ribs, his feet interlocking behind his back, and Steve was awkwardly pressed into Bucky’s seat, the metal digging into his sternum.

“I’ve waited so long for that,” Steve breathed, eyes closed. He felt Bucky nod. “I think I have, too.”

 

“You sure about this?” Steve asked, hands twitching at his sides. Bucky sighed when he noticed, reaching out with his own to grasp Steve’s hand. Their fingers interlocked together and flushed red with the heat between them.

“I can't trust my own mind. So, until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head I think going back under is the best thing, …for everybody.”

Steve hung onto those words, the small kiss Bucky gave him before suddenly he was in the tube and frozen back into cyro.

 

**Avengers: Infinity War**

“Punk, you grew a beard?! I didn’t even know you could grow facial hair.”

“Shut up, you jerk. Come and kiss me; I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

Bucky sighs dramatically, but he does walk over to Steve. “If I must.”

 

“How are you, Buck?”

Bucky’s hair moved from the side of his eyes to behind his ear, Steve not realising he’d done it until Bucky’s blush spread, but he was smiling. “Not so bad for the end of the world.”

Steve smiled back.

 

“Thor.”

Said man looked at him.

“Where did he go?”

Thor swallowed thickly, and he was choking around his words, because his mind was just as muddled as Steve’s. Later, when the sun had set, and they were all tiredly drifting around the room Shuri had led them to, Thor would tell him how lost Steve had looked, and how much it’d scared him.

“Steve?”

It was almost too slow for Steve to understand, but fast all at once. His heart picked up because Bucky was okay, and his lips twitched as he turned to face him. But then it was fast again, because then Bucky was looking at him with tears on his face and his body crumbling to dust, gun dropping along with the ashes that spread across the ground.

Steve’s legs buckled under him and as he ran his hands over the ground, swallowing thickly as to ignore the water on his cheeks. His world blacked out until he came back in Natasha’s arms, who was softly whispering in his ear and weaving her fingers through his hair.

He remembered Bucky falling from the train, and his stomach hurled, and he leaned away from Natasha and vomited because he can’t believe it’d happened again. He’d lost the love of his life again.

 

“Steve?”

Steve flinched and looked up at Shuri, who sent him a tired but soft smile. Everyone else had fallen asleep. “I think you need sleep.”

Steve looked at her with the same slow blinking face, before he nodded slowly and lied back, sighing. “I just want a break.”

**Author's Note:**

> i searched up the transcripts for the movie's to find some of those quotes ahhhhh i forgot how angsty they are ugh


End file.
